Requiem for a Criminal Investigator

Requiem for a Criminal Investigator

By: Sean Walton

As the second bullet sped by his head, Duke tried hard to push himself further into the adjacent doorway of the darkened hallway. The apartment first floor stank of urine and burned his nostrils as he reflected on his recent selection as a member of the elite Warrant Squad. His job was to track down prison escapees, parole violators and halfway house failure-to-returnees and place them back into the detention center to await disposition by the courts and parole boards. Piece of cake for a guy like him; a former military police officer, former town police officer, and former county police officer.

One of the requisites of Duke’s position was to spend a couple of years in the cell blocks of St. Clair County detention center to acclimate to the locked-down way of life. Lock down brought out the worst in the prisoners, and more so, the worst in the officers assigned. An inmate adapted to prison life by either isolating and doing their time or living in fear and fashioning weapons like shanks or pipes for self-defense. As far as the rest of the prison population, contraband, prostitution, robbery and rape of weaker residents and compromised officers was a way of life.

Vices became worse in the detention setting. If you liked liquor, you became a drunk. If you smoked, you would smoke even more. If you were sexually promiscuous, you became a whore. Every negative in your personality became more prominent as you became more like the prisoners you guarded.

Another bullet impacted the door jamb near Duke's right shoulder.

"This is the Warrant Squad, give yourself up, there is no escape!" Duke shouted down the darkened hall.

Duke's partner Neal lay near the opposite wall, his weapon ready to return fire. Duke recalled that he and his partner were after an individual wanted for prison escape back in '07.

“Poor bastard does not want to go back to prison for any reason, Duke whispered to himself, this is going to end ugly.”

Duke moved to his right and grabbed the empty fire extinguisher lying on the floor and hurled it down the hall. The suspect leaned out to fire at the sound. Duke fired two rounds from his Glock-19 service weapon at the suspect, striking him the upper left chest causing a crimson spray of blood onto the wall. The suspect was supine and motionless as Duke and Neal walked up to the body. “Finally got that sumbitch!” Neal exclaimed. Duke reached into his bullet proof vest pocket and pulled out his field operations camera and took several photos of the suspect’s body. Neal contacted the local police and their supervisors to respond to the scene, as well as a shooting team, as Duke instructed.

“Gotcha boss,” Neal replied.

Duke sat in the interview room at the police Criminal Investigations Division awaiting the investigator to enter and begin the interview. The investigator introduced himself as Bob Wallace, a skinny white kid with a buzz cut, about five foot nine, with a pasty complexion. Hell, Duke thought, his shoulder holster was bigger than him! Wallace began reading the report that Duke submitted about the incident, and asked him, “Did you consider another form of force to apprehend the suspect?”

Before Duke realized what, he thought he was going to say, the question just blurted out, “You ever been in a gunfight?”

Silence, and after what seemed an eternal pause, “No sir.” Duke retorted, “I used the appropriate amount of force to quell the situation. I shot the asshole who shot at me and my partner.”

“Duke put your badge and weapon on the desk and sign this administrative suspension.”

“So far,” Wallace said, “this situation teems with excessive force, a callous disregard for public safety, and the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, why didn’t you call for backup and an ambulance?”

Duke gave a downward glance, looked up and replied, “Never been in a gunfight, huh?”

Bob Wallace had been assigned to the warrant squad four years ago after becoming a lieutenant in the detention facility. He knew the regulations, policy, and procedure; however, he had no street experience. He took the exam for the city police department and failed miserably. Subsequently, he took the exam for the Sheriff’s department and failed this as well. The job announcement for Supervisory Criminal Investigator Internal Affairs for the Warrant Squad opened and he applied. He knew he could charm the pants off the interview board. Hell, they even wanted to invite his ass to their house for dinner! Known for his ruthlessness, he earned the reputation of “No Mercy Wallace” after his appointment. He sent a couple of investigators to jail for excessive force, brutality, and improper handling of a suspect’s property. Duke thought the stupid traitorous bastards deserved the outcomes.

Neal had been with the squad for four years after elevating from prisoner transport division. He went to church every Sunday; however, his marriage was in shambles due to infidelity and gambling. If it was female and it was a warm body, he fucked it. He had an interesting sense of humor and would attempt to tell an off- color joke at the most inappropriate time, and in mixed company. However, in a tight situation on the street, there was no better backup to have. He was tactically sound and a hell of a marksman. He knew what to do before you could think it and always followed through on reports and court appearances.

Duke thought, me, that is another story. Married and divorced twice, lived in a decent house in a quiet neighborhood. He drank Wild Turkey with dinner during the week; however, in reverence, drank Christian Brothers in a glass with ice on Sundays. Fourteen years in the Military Police. He was a town police officer for nine years and county police office for seven. Duke was decorated numerous times for acts of heroism and bravery. He once saved several people from a burning apartment building. Walked in on an armed robbery in progress and was wounded and subsequently shot and killed the suspect. Hey! Wallace shouted, Duke looked up and shut off the violins in his head and said yeah, what is up? Bob Wallace said, you are a solid investigator, but I must take you off the streets for couple weeks until this internal investigation is completed. So here are your orders, report to the detention facility and see Mr. Edwards for a shift assignment starting tomorrow at eight in the morning. Duke muttered to himself, detention, that is for wannabe cops that did not pack the gear to be the real police.

Duke signed the internal directive and got up and headed for the parking lot. Back to detention, what a clusterfuck, duke thought to himself.

Mr. Edwards, an overweight, slightly balding man about 50ish; however, the immediate turnoff was that he constantly and profusely seems to sweat and smelled like dirty sweat sox. Welcome to detention, said Edwards, this is where the rubber meets the road. Duke attempted to smile, but it looked like a sneer as he replied hiya doing’. Edwards said, today is orientation, so you will be in classroom 202 with Lieutenant Howard for 3 hours of training. Of Lieutenant Howard was a former Marine who thinks he is still charging up San Juan Hill and taught every class like Marine Boot Camp.

Duke wandered down past the officer’s dining room toward the staff elevators where several rookie officers were also headed to the classroom. What a bunch of wimps, thought Duke. The inmates are going to eat them alive. Duke remembered how some new officers back in the day, were compromised day one by the inmates who has targeted them “Bring me a pack of cigarettes tomorrow,” or bring me some chocolate candy.” Of course, the weak officers complied and were on the hook, knowing that if the inmate told the administrator, that was their ass. So the requests from the inmates constantly increased until the officer was completely and utterly compromised by the inmate and were afraid to come to work You could tell which officers were on the hook, just look at their leave record. Been on the job 9 years and only has 4 hours of leave on the books. Some officers were not willing to work certain blocks because the “word” was out on them that they were easy marks. Some officers were even into performing sexual favors for the inmates. Take for instance, a couple of female officers were report to the cellblock with the standard uniform skirts on and were seen backing up to the cell bars and raising their skirts to allow penetration by the male inmate. “Jailhouse love,” Duke said to himself. What a zoo.

Now the male officers were just as bad, they would come to work knowing the night before that they would be assigned to the female cellblock, prepared to bring drugs, candy, coffee or some other contraband in exchange for sex. Once inside the cellblock, the range officer (the one that controls the opening and closing of the cell doors) would be given a couple of dollars or an opportunity to go down the range to have sex while the other officer would turn a blind eye to the activity.

Duke nodded in and out of consciousness through the orientation as the lecture seemed to go on forever. Finally, Lieutenant Howard dismissed the class and instructed us to report to the Command Center for duty assignments.

Duke was assigned to the Protective Custody block,, where only one inmate at a time was allowed out of the cell to retrieve his food tray and return to his cell where the door was secured, so that the next inmate could do the same and so on and so on.

The range officer was a “Chatty Cathy” on the telephone and generally half paid attention to the signals of the floor officer while feeding was going on. Duke said to himself, how did I get this assignment, floor officer in the Protective Custody cellblock. Duke waved his hand again and the Range Officer closed one cell and opened another as the feeding continued. Out of the corner of his eye, Duke saw a cell open while the inmate from the cell that was being fed, was opened also. Duke saw the inmate from the second cell, a large 6 foot light skinned man at about 230 pounds, holding a “Shank” in his right fist as he ran toward the opened cell that was being fed. Duke turned to his right to avoid being hit in the chest with the shank and was grazed on his right upper arm. The attack continued as the inmate that was being fed attempted to duck back in the cell as the shank hit him in the left eye and punctured the eye and pulled it from the socket. Duke spun around and got in between the two combatants and punched the large inmate with the shank with a right hooked that leveled him, causing the shank to skitter across the floor. Duke subdued the inmate and shouted to the range officer to call a code for assistance. The range officer looked as though he had seen a ghost and panicked and secured the cell door with the bleeding one-eyed inmate inside. Duke shouted again to have the range officer to open the injured inmate’s cell.

After what seemed to be an eternity, ten officers and a lieutenant arrived and took custody of the assaulting inmate and personnel from the infirmary tended to the one -eyed inmate’s injuries. He was transported to the county general hospital where he subsequently lost that eye. Duke was sent to the infirmary where he received eleven stiches to close his wound. The assaulting inmate was sent to the “Hole” to await the inmate review board for punishment. Mr. Edwards asked Duke, how did you fuck this up, you have not been here one day. Duke asked Edwards, do you think I was responsible for this cluster fuck? Why don’t you ask that idiot range officer how this happened, before you start playing the blame game? Edwards called the shift lieutenant to offer his overview of the situation.

Neal stood before the internal affairs review board and was informed that he was to report to inmate transport for duty until notified of the investigation’s outcome. Neal said “I’ve got about eighty hours of leave on the books and I would like to take some time off. Permission denied, said Wallace, I want you to report to inmate transportation, and that is an order. Neal signed the papers and gathered himself and left.

Duke stood in Edward’s office and listened to the lieutenant explain what he had surmised had happened. “It was the range officer’s fault; he wasn’t paying attention to the signals that Duke was sending and almost cost an inmate’ s life and jeopardized the life of Duke.

Edwards dismissed the lieutenant and instructed him to have his report on the desk first thing tomorrow. Duke, Edwards said, you know I cannot put you back in the cellblock, so I will have to put you in access control. That way I can keep you away from the inmates who have put a bounty on your head; by the way, the inmate you assaulted was big shit in that block, he controlled drugs, cigarettes, chocolate candy, and loan sharking, and now he’s in the hole, the supply chain is broken. The word is out on you amongst the inmates and the officers. Watch your ass!

Neal reported to inmate transportation and was greeted by Mr. Lassiter, the administrator, “Welcome to God’s little acre, as we call it. See you got yourself a TDY Temporary Duty Assignment), well if I have anything to do with it, you will remain here until I see fit to let you go. Neal thought, it would be useless to argue with this asshole.

Duke reported to access control, which was an observation port about fifteen feet in the air that controlled ingress and egress to and from the cellblocks and the hallway leading to the infirmary and the Command Center. All one had to do was watch the inmate, escorted by the officer approach one door and then push the intercom button and give the inmates name and the officer’s name, and wait to be granted access via electronic door into or out of the cellblock. “The monkey pushes the button and turns the knob,” Duke thought to himself.

At the end of the shift, Duke gathered his belongings and awaited the relief officer’s arrival. The phone rand as if an alarm had gone off. Duke answered the phone and was informed that he would have to hold over at his post until a relief officer could be found. “Fuck me,” Duke thought, “I really need this today”. My hand hurts like hell and I need to get home to get a drink and relax; Instead, I am stuck in this access control post. The scream sounded like it was that of someone being severely injured. Duke looked in the mirrors and down the accessways and could not see anything. Then he heard over the intercom that the facility was being locked down and an emergency count was being initiated.

Neal was assigned to Bus # 305 to transport inmates to county court for preliminary hearings. Forty-one shackled inmates and five officers loaded onto the bus and prepared to proceed to the county courthouse. Now Neal remembered that the entrance to the courthouse was a steel rollup door that lead to the underground parking lot. All he had to do was back the bus into the bay and onto the lift and they were proceed up two levels to the holding area, where the shackled inmates were off loaded into the holding cage to await their turn to enter into the video room to make their appearance before the judge via close circuit television. Neal cleared his head and proceeded out of the facility onto the highway with the chase vehicle (Two officers armed to follow the bus to and from the courthouse) close behind.

Duke waited for approximately thirty-nine minutes until he heard over the intercom, “The Count is Clear!” What a relief, Duke thought, just as the relief officer buzzed the door for entry. A wiry looking kid about twenty-two with red hair, walked in and checked the logbook and signed for the keys and said, “you’re Duke,” bonified badass! Duke just looked at the kid and said “really.” Duke left the accessway perch and walked down the hallway past the command center and into the officer’s locker room to change into his civilian clothes and go home for the night.

Neal arrived with the bus load of inmates at the courthouse and proceeded to back the bus onto the lift and headed up the inmate holding area. The sheriff’s deputies knocked on the bus door and indicated that Neal should open the door. The deputies entered the bus and told the inmates that they will be removed from the bus, shackles in place, and be escorted into the “bullpen,” the inmate holding area to await their turn in the video room for their preliminary hearings.

Duke arrived at home checked the mail and went into the house and said, “Hello house,” and walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a couple of ice cubes and tossed them in a short glass and opened a bottle of wild turkey and covered the ice cubes. “9 a.m. will be here before you know it,” Duke said to himself, “guess I better take a shower and hit the rack.”

Neal had just finishing off loading the last inmate, when a call came over the intercom on the bus indicating that he was needed to assist with the preliminary hearings in the cellblock. “Another clusterfuck,” Neal thought, as he secured the bus and walked into the cellblock area.

Duke stood in rollcall and listened to the duty assignments given out by Captain Davis. “Masters, access control.” Duke thought to himself, “back in the perch.” By the way, Captain Davis began’ “yesterday evening right before shift change, an inmate was sodomized by three other inmates with a mop handle. I am sure those of you in the access control and the Command Center heard the screams. What a fucking mess. The three perpetrators are in the hole and the victim was transported to county general to have his ass sewed up.” The officers in the block are currently under investigation and reassigned to administrative duties.” I will not tolerate this kind of behavior on my shift, Captain Davis said. I will get to the bottom of this, I can assure you.” “Dismissed!”

Neal stood with the deputies and watched as the shackles that linked the inmates were removed and the first inmate was escorted into the CCTV room for his preliminary hearing. Neal thought he saw something a bit strange, one of the deputies was observed passing something to an inmate that was fourth in line. The inmate quickly inserted it into his jumpsuit pocket and turned his stare directly at Neal and smiled.

Duke relived the officer in the access control and checked the keys, logbook, and the operation of the access doors. “All checks out,” Duke said to himself. Just as Duke settled in for a boring shift, a knock came on the access control door. Duke said, “What’s up?” The voice from the other side said, “Mr. Edwards wants to see you in his office.” Duke said to himself, “Some more bullshit.”

Neal tapped the deputy that was standing next to him, “hey, did you just see that?” The deputy did not respond and stepped away from him. Neal said to himself, “what kind of bullshit goes on in here, just as he felt a tickle across his throat and saw the crimson spray from his own neck, as everything went black.

Duke, said Edwards, “Neal Wilson was assaulted in the cellblock of the courthouse today, and subsequently succumbed to his injury. I’m sorry.” Duke stared in shock at Edwards and asked how did it happen? Edwards said, “an inmate got behind Neal and cut his throat, severing the artery. Hell, he was dead before he hit the ground.” “Look Duke, take some time off and mourn, I know you two were close.” Duke squared his shoulders and turned and walked away in the direction of the officer’s locker room.

The deputies at the courthouse locked the inmates down as the ambulance personnel removed Neal’s body from the cellblock. One of the ambulance technicians caught the eye of one of the deputies and turned thumbs down as they removed the body.

Duke exited the Detention Facility and walked toward his car as the Prisoner transport bus hit and crushed him between the car and the bus…

Evelyn Davis was approximately 34 years old, a single mother of two young boys. She had spent 11 years working in detention and was recommended by her shift captain to apply for the Warrant Squad. She interviewed for the position on a Thursday, and on the following Tuesday, she got the call. Evelyn was instructed to report to the Warrant Squad at 0800 hours on Wednesday to sit before an interview panel to determine her suitability for the position as Criminal Investigator.

The panel consisted of a male Captain, a female Sergeant, and a Male Supervisory Criminal Investigator. The panel grilled her on departmental policy and procedures, laws of arrest, Miranda rights, and street safety. It seemed like she had been in front of the panel for hours on end, when she was informed that she was the candidate they had chosen to fill the position.

Supervisory Investigator Blake Moore was approximately 48 years old, happily married for the last 25 years, no children. He stood about 5’10 tall and looked like he could take a Volkswagen Beetle apart with his bare hands. His grey eyes, small thin cruel lips and powerful voice gave the impression he was no-nonsense on any level. She was right.

He introduced himself to Evelyn and said, “We will be heading to the firearms range to get you familiar with the Glock 19, your service weapon, and see if you qualify to carry it. Evelyn cringed inside at the thought of having to carry a weapon, knowing she had kids at home.

Evelyn went through the first day of classroom training and dry fire. The second day was getting fitted for a holster that she would wear on her hip.

She really felt lopsided when she put the weapon in the holster and proceeded to the range and was given the ammunition to place in her pockets until she was at the 71/2-yard line. She was then instructed to load her magazine with 15 rounds and insert it into the butt of the weapon. She was then instructed to pull the slide back and make the weapon hot. She then placed the weapon back into the holster and stand by.

The rangemaster then gave verbal instructions on weapon safety over the loudspeaker. “Ready on the left, ready on the right, ready on the firing line. Shooters fire five rounds at your target and holster your weapon. The headphones aka hearing protectors muffled the sounds of the gunshots but still she flinched at the sound. She managed to fire the first five shots at the target and the holes in the target appeared to be to the right and low from the center.

The rangemaster then spoke over the loudspeaker and informed the shooters to move back to the Fifteen-yard line and stand by. Evelyn stood facing the target as if it were a scene from an old west gunfight about to go down. The rangemaster instructed the shooters to fire five rounds into your target and holster your weapon.

Evelyn fired the five rounds and holstered her weapon just as the sound of a shot from her right caused her head to snap around in the direction of the shot she heard. She observed a shooter lying on the ground clutching his right thigh and blood seeping through his fingers. The unidentified shooter had kept his finger inside the trigger guard of his Glock 19 while placing his weapon inside the holster and accidently discharged a live round from his weapon into his thigh. The rangemaster ceased the operations of the range while an ambulance arrived and transported the shooting victim to the hospital. What a fucked-up day, Evelyn thought while she packed her things and reported back to the classroom to clean her weapon and prepare to go home.

Evelyn got home kissed and hugged her kids and went into her bedroom closing the door behind her and began unloading her weapon, placed the live rounds in the bottom of her sock drawer and placed the safe weapon back into her holster. She went into the kitchen and asked her children what they would like for dinner, Of course, they wanted McDonald’s and so they piled into her car and rode about a half mile and went into the drive through. After she and her children got their food and took it home, she asked them to talk to her about their day and to let them know that her training was becoming real interesting; however, she dared not tell them about the shooting incident.

Evelyn awakened at 0630 approximately a half hour before the alarm went off, took her shower, got dressed and loaded her weapon, placed the weapon in her holster and proceeded downstairs where her children were eating breakfast. She kissed them and told them to have a great day in school, and she will see them this evening.

Evelyn walked to her car and hopped in and proceeded to the range. Upon arrival, she was instructed by the rangemaster to the classroom to participate in a critique of the accidental shooting yesterday.

The rangemaster began addressing the class by saying, the incident yesterday, was the result of not remembering that your weapon was hot and doing what you were taught the first day, keep your finger outside of the trigger guard until you are facing your target and prepared to discharge your weapon. Of course, the rangemaster said, internal affairs will be investigating the incident, and of course this will muddle our operation for weeks. In the meantime, let us proceed to the range and finish what we started yesterday.

The rangemaster instructed the shooters over the loudspeaker to place their hearing protectors on and approach the 25-yard line. They were instructed to load their magazines with only 5 rounds, place the magazine in the butt of the weapon until it snaps in place, then pull back on the slide and make the weapon hot. The rangemaster then instructed them to place the weapon in their holsters and stand by.

The rangemaster then instructed them to fire the five rounds at their targets and once this was completed to keep their weapons in their hand, pointed to ground.

Evelyn fired the 5 rounds at her target while hearing ricochets off the metal target holders from the other shooters. The rangemaster barked over the loudspeaker to cease fire, cease fire! He then asked if all weapons safe and to place their weapons on the ground and step back. Once this was completed, he told the shooters to walk down range and look at their targets. Evelyn’s target had seven holes in it. How did that happen? Then she realized that the shooter next to her was also shooting at her target, what a dick, thought Evelyn. Her grouping of her rounds fired was tight in the eight ring and she was quite pleased with herself. Unfortunately, the shooter next to her had more hits on the metal target holder, two in Evelyn’s target outside of the silhouette, and zero on his target.

The rangemaster instructed the shooters to pull their targets and lay them back at the 25-yard line next to their weapons on the ground. They were then instructed to police (pick-up) their brass, pickup their weapons while pointed downrange insert another magazine that had the fifteen live rounds initially in the weapon when they left home and to push the slide lock release to chamber a live round.

The assistants on the range placed new targets in the metal holders and went back to their positions to the rear of the shooters. The rangemaster then instructed the shooters to place their weapons in their holsters and stand by.

The rangemaster then instructed to approach the 7 ½ yard line and standby. The rangemaster then instructed the shooters that at the sound of the whistle to pull your weapon fire two rounds into the target, place your weapon back in the holster and wait for the next whistle pull your weapon and fire two more rounds into the target and holster your weapon. Evelyn finished the drills with her weapon and returned to the classroom for a briefing on the combat course. What the hell was a combat course Evelyn thought. The rangemaster said to the class the combat course is a version of “Hogan’s Alley” used by the FBI and other federal law enforcement agencies. It consists of the officer, you, walking down the alley and shoot or no-shoot targets will pop out from doorways, windows and run across the alley. You must determine if the target is a threat or not. You must fire your weapon to neutralize the suspect and keep moving until you complete the course. You will have three minutes to negotiate the course. A wiseass class member raised his hand and asked if the target shoots back what will do? The rangemaster said, then you better be on your “A” game if you expect to survive.

Evelyn walked with the class to the combat course and looked at the mockup alley and a chill ran down her spine, my God, Evelyn thought this is going to be a bitch.

The first shooter, Deputy Ditmar Ruiz, entered the alley and saw a young girl’s picture pop out of the doorway and he immediately fired two rounds striking the target. The loudspeaker said “Disqualified!” You shot an unnamed civilian. The class was standing there with their mouths open as the target was taped and prepared for the next shooter.

Deputy Sandy Fraser from the EST (Emergency Services Team) proceeded down the alley, the first target was a suspect pointing a pistol at her. She put three rounds into the target and moved on. The next target popped out with a sawed-off shotgun and Sandy saw a flash and the loudspeaker said “Officer Down reset! The flash was supposed to be the suspect’s muzzle flash. The objective for the officer was to fire their weapon faster than the suspect to prevent seeing his muzzle flash.

The next shooter will be Evelyn Davis, the loudspeaker announced. Evelyn drew her weapon and proceeded down the alley as the first target popped out from a window holding a pistol against the head of a hostage. Evelyn pumped two rounds in the suspect’s face and proceeded down the alley.

The target popped out of a doorway which was a kid with a balloon that popped. Evelyn flinched as she heard the pop but did not discharge her weapon.

Evelyn wiped the sweat from her brow and continued down the alley. A child on a bicycle sped across the alley in front of her as she followed its’ path with her eyes and her weapon. She held her fire just as the armed robbery suspect’s target popped up from the ground and was immediately the recipient of three rounds from Evelyn’s weapon.

Cease fire! The loudspeaker said, Score “Perfect!” Evelyn holstered her weapon. The class applauded her as she sat on the bench behind the class.

Two other members of the class scored perfect and joined her on the bench. They gave each other high-fives and said yes!

Out of the thirteen members of the class three, including Evelyn passed the course and were given written certifications of their success. The other classmates had to re-apply in ninety days to attempt certification. Those deputies would be assigned to administrative duties until they could qualify and be certified to carry weapons.

Supervisory Investigator Moore congratulated Evelyn and informed her that she was to report to the Warrant Squad office on tomorrow morning to meet with her new FTO (Field Training Officer). Have a good night, he said. Evelyn walked to her care and proceeded home to break the good news to her sons. One hell of a day, thought Evelyn, thank God I made It through. Pizza would be a nice dinner and would feel like a party. Pizza it is!

The alarm clock chimed for about a minute before Evelyn realized it was 6:00 a.m.

This morning was full of pomp and circumstance, first, the swearing in ceremony and presentation of shields, meeting the Attorney General of the State, deputized by The United States Marshal, and finally, meet her F.T.O. and receive her shift assignment.

Evelyn’s F.T.O. was a female Investigator by the name of Dee Dee Morgan, a white chick from Beaver Creek, Ohio. Divorced with two children (a boy and girl), been in the Warrant Squad for three and a half years. Made 11 felony arrest and 21 Misdemeanor arrest, decorated twice for Distinguished Service. She chased an escapee, wanted for attempted murder of a Police Officer, down a dark alley after her partner had been shot and mortally wounded. She managed to subdue the escapee by herself and called for backup despite her own personal injuries. (Grazed by a bullet in the right thigh). The second award was for pulling a D.U.I. (Driving Under the Influence) from a burning automobile accident vehicle. She suffered second degree burns on her hair and face, which left her with an ugly scar on her right cheek. A real live hero, Evelyn thought. Dee Dee asked sarcastically “through daydreaming?”

Roll call was being conducted by Inspector Tipton, a hardboiled badass that spent thirteen years on the street as a police sergeant, and the last seven years as the Warrant Squad Commander. Tipton said to the seven teams in the room, we would like to welcome Investigator Evelyn Davis to our ranks and to our elite squad. The most important rule is safety, safety, and safety! Each team will be assigned five escapee cases to develop and subsequently locate, pursue, and apprehend safely. Check your weapons, put on your bulletproof vests, your Warrant Squad Jackets, and remember, safety, safety, safety. “None of you has my permission to die while in the performance of your duty!”

Dee Dee and Evelyn exited the quad room and received their case files from the administrative assistant and walked into the motor pool office. Morgan and Davis cruiser 299, the clerk said while handing them the keys. Dee Dee told Evelyn to ride shotgun until she learned the layout of city/county area.

Evelyn opened the first case file and observed the suspect they were pursuing was a two-time loser by the name of Tyrone Sweeney aka “Teenie,” wanted for escape from the Detention Facility. He failed to return from his job and did not call. This will be his third strike. He would be looking at hard time in the penitentiary from now on.

Dee Dee drove to the address that Evelyn gave as the address of record in the folder. Dee Dee said, walk around back and standby while I approach the front door. Dee Dee knocked on the door and announced, “Warrant Squad!”

Evelyn saw the backdoor open and observed the suspect matching the description in the folder, jump down the steps and proceed toward the alley when Evelyn with gun drawn shouted “Halt!” The suspect slid to a stop and fell face down on the ground. Evelyn shouted, “I got him,” as Dee Dee ran around the side of the house and saw Evelyn handcuffing the suspect and reading his “Miranda” rights as she helped the suspect to his feet and then patted him down for weapons. Dee Dee opened the cruiser door, and they placed the suspect in the rear passenger seat and Evelyn got into the seat beside him. Dee Dee started the car and called over the radio “Unit Bravo 4, one in custody, enroute to the station, starting mileage One four eight three point six. Tyrone said to Dee Dee and Evelyn, “I’m going to get you for this, be assured, you ain’t safe no place!”

Evelyn and Dee Dee brought the prisoner into the holding area, secured their weapons, and began fingerprinting and photographing Tyrone. “You bitches are going to wish that you never met me,” Tyrone spat the words.

After what seemed an eternity to complete the paperwork and processing, Evelyn and Dee Dee retrieved their weapons and went back on the street. Evelyn picked up the microphone and said, “Unit Bravo 4, 10-8.”

Several more addresses of record were explored; however, they were old and the suspects nor his family members lived there anymore. Dee Dee said to Evelyn, “not bad for the first night, partner.” Evelyn glowed with pride as Dee Dee dropped her off at her residence. “See you at 14:45 tomorrow.

Evelyn walked up to her front door and attempted to insert the key as the door seemed to be ajar. “What the fuck?” Evelyn drew her service weapon and entered her residence. “Surprise, her two sons exclaimed! “Mommy is a Gunslinger, a Lawman!

Evelyn told her sons; you cannot do that kind of thing anymore. Those kinds of surprises can cause an innocent situation to become tragic. Suppose I had shot one of you. Do not do that again, please, now finish your dinner and homework and go to your rooms. Goodnight.

Evelyn arose at six thirty made oatmeal, bacon, and toast; however, there was something odd about the way she felt, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The kids were usually up this time of morning and prepared to catch the bus at seven thirty.

She decided to wake the boys up and as she climbed the stairs her gut was twisting and knotted up like a thick rope. Boys time to get up! You are going to be late for school. She arrived at the top steps and started to push bathroom door open and Suddenly, There was the sound of water running in the shower, Boys, she said with a stern tone, let’s get your butts moving, you’re, and she froze as the blue eye and its’ entrails were lying in the tub while the shower water kept rolling it around. Evelyn screamed as she ran into each of the boys’ rooms. Each one of them was tied and gagged while they lay on their beds. Both of their eyes were intact. There was a note on the mirror of her eldest son’s dresser, and it read, “you are not safe.”

Dee Dee got the phone call at about Six forty-five from the Warrant Squad communications center informing her of the situation at Evelyn’s home. The dispatcher told her, “the local police and fireboard are enroute.”. Dee Dee’s heart was in her throat as she drove Code 3 (Lights and siren) and gave the dispatcher “10-4.” What the fuck could have happened? God, I hope nobody is hurt or worse.

Dee Dee pulled up in front of Evelyn’s house and as soon as she and Evelyn locked eyes. They ran toward each other sobbing. “Where are the boys? DeeDee asked. Evelyn told her that they were on their way to County General. Neither of them was injured but quite shaken. Evelyn told her about the eyeball in the tub and the kids being tied up but otherwise unharmed. Detectives from the sheriff’s office were conducting the interviews and collecting the evidence.

Investigative Supervisor Moore arrived on the scene and informed Evelyn that she was to take the next week off while she and her family arranged for another place to stay while the investigation was ongoing. Moore told Dee Dee that while this investigation is ongoing she was on administrative leave and her police powers will remain active.

Dee Dee drove Evelyn to the hospital to join her sons. A sea of uniformed police officers was guarding the entrance to the emergency room. Evelyn heard the claxon first and then Dee Dee looked at the police officer standing nearest her and saw hi mouth the words, “Bomb Threat.” The announcement over the Public Address system came also simultaneously “Please evacuate the premises, this is not a drill!” My boys! Evelyn shouted at the uniformed officer, where are they? The officer turned and disappeared into the emergency room. Evelyn and Dee Dee waited as hospital personnel rushed by them, but the officer never returned. Dee Dee and Evelyn charged into the emergency room and observed both her sons lying on the examination table partially decapitated as they saw the uniformed officer placing his service weapon under his chin and said “Teenie sends his regards,” and pulled the trigger as the top portion of his head opened violently and his grey matter hit the ceiling tiles causing a sloppy red mess that began leaking from the ceiling, simultaneously, his body fell backward and jerked violently for about three seconds. Everything went black.

Evelyn awoke in the brightly lit room and noticed that she was sitting on the floor with her arms crossed in front of her enclosed in the sleeves of a strait jacket.

Dee Dee and Moore stood outside the locked door of the padded cell and Moore whispered “Teenie said there will be a bonus for both of us this month.